


A True Draconic Hero

by VenomWave



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types, Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Crossover, Dark Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomWave/pseuds/VenomWave
Summary: EMIYA has been playing YGGDRASIL for 12 years now, though not by his own choice. He suddenly awoke one day in this strange, digital world with no idea as to how or why and with no way out. But that didn't matter to him because he had people to save, so save them he did. For 12 years, EMIYA had done his best to save as many of the other players of YGGDRASIL as he could, and had even made some friends along the way, but that time has now passed. YGGDRASIL would soon be going offline and most of his friends had already moved on. With the shutdown looming and with no way for him to escape, EMIYA knew he'd be deleted alongside the game. This is the story about his final moments within YGGDRASIL, and about what came after.





	1. Chapter 1

HeroHero let out another, big yawn. The man had been up for some time now, it was perfectly reasonable for him to be tired. Still, Momonga could help feeling annoyed all the same. YGGDRASIL was scheduled to be shut down in just over an hour; all of his and his friend's hard work, including HeroHero’s, was going to be erased. Just like that, poof, gone. Momonga felt HeroHero could, at the very least, hold out till then. It would go some way to making up for all the time he'd missed.

HeroHero yawned again and this time Momonga joined him.

“Perhaps you two should log out,” A third voice spoke up. Momonga turned to him. Where HeroHero looked like a deep purple sludge pile and Momonga was a skeleton with a gaudy set of robes, to show off his power and wealth, this third person was both less monstrous and illustrious than the other two. _Though_ , Momonga noted, _he’s probably more of both_. EMIYA was not a man to be messed with, despite his quite looks and gentle personality. The man was an absolutely beastly player. Dull copper skin with a pair of silver eyes and matching silver hair all rested on a somewhat handsome human face. Not that he was of course. Their guild, Ainz Ooal Gown, was made up of entirely heteromorphic players. Humanoids and select, good-aligned demi-human races weren’t allowed to join, let alone become guildmaster.

EMIYA been the leader of the guild for some time now, and there wasn’t a man Momonga respected more. Not only did EMIYA perfectly embody the very goal and ideal that had birthed the guild in the first place, he had also stayed after all the others had left to tend to the guild with his skeletal friend. Other than HeroHero’s brief return today, EMIYA and Momonga were the last two active members of Ainz Ooal Gown, real life having slowly taking precedence for all the others. The fact EMIYA had stayed behind with him meant a great deal more to the Lich than he could ever put into words. The two had played YGGDRASIL side by side for nearly a year now without even a brief appearance from their old friends, they’d often been each other's only real source of company for perhaps days at a time.

To be quite honest, Momonga hadn’t expected HeroHero to show up tonight. Of course he’d hoped some of his old friends might come back and say one last goodbye to their old home but he knew deep down it was a foolish hope to have. He and EMIYA had worked tirelessly together just to earn enough money to pay the guild maintenance fees so that they and the home they had all built together could be there to welcome them back but no one came. It stung, really stung, but neither he nor EMIYA had ever resented their old friends. Time moves on and people move with it, that’s just the way it was. If anything, Momonga was happy everyone seemed to be doing so well they had no time for YGGDRASIL anymore. While Momonga felt some annoyance at HeroHero’s seeming disinterest, that was dwarfed by the sheer glee at seeing his old friend again.

“You’re right,” HeroHero said, nodding, his sludge drooping down as his face slid into a frown. “I’ve been up for a while. I need some rest.” HeroHero opened up his menu, gave the two a brief goodbye and logged off of Yggdrasil forever. While Momonga  genuinely wished the smile all the best a small hole settled in his stomach, a pit, that was almost swallowing him whole. _He couldn’t even hold on for an hour_.

“Perhaps you should leave too, Momonga. You need to be up in a few hours, don’t you,” EMIYA reminded him. EMIYA’s brow furrowed as he scanned his friend for any signs of exhaustion, not that there would be. For as advanced as YGGDRASIL had been, and still was, animated facial features were not one of those technical advancements. While in-game NPC’s might have very detailed and animated expressions, such advancements were lost for players and player made NPC’s.

 _That’s so like you_ , Momonga thought, it was one of the reasons EMIYA had been chosen to lead, after all. The genuine care and concern he showed to not only the guild members but to everyone he met, especially those in need, had made him fast friends with everyone in the guild. When Touch Me had stepped down during the reformation EMIYA had been voted guildmaster near unanimously. While he had made it clear he had no desire to lead, once the votes were in, EMIYA had accepted the position without hesitation. During his time as guildmaster, EMIYA had made sure that both the guild and he himself perfectly represented the singular desire Ainz Ooal Gown had been founded upon, the protection of the weak.

Back during YGGDRASILs peak, it was a bad idea to play a heteromorphic race. In the interest of realism, the developers had decided that there wouldn’t be any penalties for humanoid players hunting and killing heteromorph players,  and a select few ‘evil’ demi-human races too. They'd tried to keep the mix of races balanced by giving heteromorphic races powerful racial abilities whereas humans had none, though they did possess a greater capacity for class customisation, as an obvious attempt to draw more players to a race classification they knew would be under used. It didn’t. Humanoid players dominated YGGDRASILs servers and, because the reverse was also true, heteromorphs not receiving debuffs or penalties for killing humanoid or ‘good’ demi-humans, this led to heteromorphic persecution.

Despite the incentives to play a heteromorph, the benefits of playing a human were just too great. Humans had free reign to enter any town or city of their choosing while most heteromorphic races, those that didn't look human, were attacked on sight for even approaching a lot of them. Combined with the ever growing human population of YGGDRASIL the relative safety of human players couldn’t be understated. YGGDRASIL was designed to be a punishing game where death, while not permanent, was devastating. A whole five levels were lost upon death meaning you were not only weaker but you had lost hours of play time as well as several abilities. Upon death a random high level item was dropped meaning you needed friends nearby to pick up your items or you’d lost it for good. This placed a high emphasis on PVP and the only safe zones were in towns, meaning anyone exploring the vast wilds of the game was able to be ambushed and killed by other players.

The large humanoid player base meant that human players could move in larger groups than heteromorphs. It also meant a larger amount of high level players. In a game that put a lot of emphasis on PVP it didn't take a genius to figure out what started happening next, humans started ‘culling’. ‘Cull’ wasn't an official term but it was one widely used by the heteromorph community. Human players arranged, IRL, a specific date, time and meeting point for a ‘cull’ and then moved out as a wave of various groups and guilds to kill as many heteromorphic players as they could in an effort to farm their items. Because only a single item could be looted from player at a time it wasn’t uncommon for groups to camp heteromorph spawns to kill respawning players, they’d be easier pickings when at a lower level but still have fairly high level gear. YGGDRASIL also only allowed players to have one avatar at a time. Once a person dropped below level 0 their avatar was deleted with no way to recover it, forcing them to make a new avatar and start again. With the ‘player farming’ that was going on for the high level loot a lot of heteromorphic players were forced below level 0 and their avatars deleted. It wasn't uncommon for someone who had lost their avatar to a ‘culling’ to roll up a human avatar next to avoid the same happening again, which only further exasperated the problem. The situation got so bad it had nearly caused the games developers to step in before the situation had begun to resolve itself.

EMIYA was one of the few heteromorphs who was strong enough to push back against these attacks and he did so with surprising frequency. His max level and extreme skill at the game gave him good odds to survive a fight against a group of high level players, sometimes even winning against them. His Draconic race also meant he had both a human form and dragon form so it wasn’t hard for him to go under the radar and simply not be targeted at all, something EMIYA had take advantage of on numerous occasions. Due to his ability to go unnoticed during ‘culls’ EMYIA could get close to ‘cull’ groups without them becoming on-guard, allowing him and his superior skill to dispatch small groups with little effort.

Ainz Ooal Gown had been formed, in part, in an effort to help stop the ‘culls’. The original group, Nine’s Own Goal, had originally been made from a small group of friends who just formed a guild together. They also just so happened to be all heteromorphs. Once the ‘culls’ started happening the group had decided to help out and started recruiting others into their guild. From there they had reformed into Ainz Ooal Gown, with EMIYA at it’s head and an express wish to protect heteromorph players from the cyber bullying and let them play the amazing game in peace.

EMIYA had been one of the few players Nine’s Own Goal had actively sought out. He’d been surprisingly hard to find due to his somewhat elusive nature and the fact he was always hopping around the map to help people. Eventually, the guild tracked him down; it hadn't taken long to convince him to join. After hearing their desire to protect the people just trying to play the game, EMIYA had joined up immediately.

Under EMIYA’s leadership, the guild swelled in size and  started to turn the tide. The whole guild pitched in to do there part, hundreds of members each doing what they can to help out other players. Some people began specialising in various support classes, like Blacksmith or Alchemists, or building a combat support character like Healers or special Mage characters with an emphasis on giving players buffs and resistances. Resources were pooled together and shared amongst the guilds members. Players who’d specialised in the various artisan classes used the guilds money and materials to create things for other guild members to use at no cost, resulting in a ton of powerful weapons, armour and items at Ainz Ooal Gowns disposal. It even spread outside of YGGDRASIL itself. IRL players began a sort of information network that scoured YGGDRASIL forums and message boards for information on any upcoming  ‘culls’ before logging back into the game to pass the information over. Teams were then created to attack the various groups taking part in the ‘cull’ and others were made to search out and protect targeted players. While the human players had managed to come together to organise the ‘culls’ they lacked any unity beyond that and EMIYA used that against them. Due to the sheer amount of players taking part in the ‘culls’ multiple meetup sites had to be picked for the various groups to start from. One of EMIYA’s more common tactics was to organised the guild teams to attack these meeting spots one by one, using the old divide and conquer. Their lack of communication meant it was impossible for one site to alert the others, meaning no reinforcements to help push Ainz Ooal Gown back and no one being able to alert the next group of the guild coming for them. AInz Ooal Gown soon turned into a small but elite force of players. Still, it took nearly a year before the ‘culls’ officially stopped. There were still targeted attacks against heteromorphic players but the larger raids were a thing of the past.

Not many stayed with the guild after that.

When everything had finally settled only 42 people had remained. EMIYA had been a bit apprehensive about leading the group when the guild finally started doing the in-game raids rather than raids on other players but he soon found his rhythm, as the rest of them had. They hadn’t all worked closely with each other during the ‘cull’ raids but quickly found their feet. The guild went on to battle dungeon after dungeon and complete raid after raid, all the while taking down some of the hardest bosses in the game. They all became close friends and eventually set about getting an actual guild hall for themselves, something that had been neglected in the face of stopping the ‘culls’. It was eventually decided they would try for the dungeon/guild hall The Tomb of Nazarick. It had been hard, requiring a lot of planning and more than a few attempts, but they'd gotten it in the end.

“I-it’s fine,” Momonga waved off. “I’m here till the end.” EMIYA’s frown deepened.

“You really shouldn't put games over your health. Too little sleep doesn’t just make it hard to concentrate and leave you feeling sleepy, it can also have adverse effects on your body too.” Momonga gave a little chuckle at that. EMIYA always was more concerned with the person behind the avatar than the avatar itself. It made it really difficult for the roleplayers in the guild.  Momonga had been with the guild since before even EMIYA and he couldn't recall a single time that EMIYA had looked as lost as the day Ulbert had decided he wanted the guild to start playing into their _evil_ theme.

Heteromorph races were _evil_ races, that had been part of the appeal of playing one. While players had the ability to play their character however they wanted, regardless of race, one of the main draws, bar racial abilities, had been to roleplay as a bad guy. EMIYA had been quite uncomfortable with the suggestion before finally being convinced to go along with it when most of the members had stepped forward in support of the suggestions, after all, _“_ it's only a game, EMIYA.”

As the head of the guild, EMIYA was forced to play as the guilds ‘big bad overlord’. He’d never looked so uncomfortable in all the time the others had known him and they all gleefully took notice. He eventually got more into the role but never fully embraced it. The fact that the guild constantly brought it up around him to embarrass the Dragonoid didn’t help matters. More than a few jokes had been made at EMIYA’s expense but he’d taken them all in stride. Convincing EMIYA to go along with one of Ulbert’s later suggestions had been a lot harder.

A few months after the final alterations to their guild hall had been completed, Ulbert came up with the idea for the guild to make a final confrontation against invaders from Nazaricks throne room. He’d gotten the idea for one of those early morning anime’s with the stereotypical, mustache-twirling villains. A final show of arrogance from the bad guys by forcing their opponents into an all-or-nothing final battle. EMIYA’s had vehemently put his foot down, while he hadn’t told the others they couldn’t do so if they wanted he wanted no part of it. He said he just couldn’t bring himself to ‘cruel mock the efforts of others’. Up until Ulbert's suggestion, the guild had just fought on the various levels of the guild hall alongside the floor guardians that protected them and EMIYA hadn’t wanted to chance that, finding some sort of honour or something in fighting the invaders openly. Ulbert and a few of the others had spent a lot of time and effort and a little bending of the truth to convince him to go along with the idea, the effect just wouldn’t be the same if the main villain wasn’t there to take part.

“I want to be here until the end,” Momonga quietly admitted. Momonga dropped his gaze to the table. Having a round table in the guild's meeting room had been something EMIYA had pushed hard for. It was surprising to see him get so serious over something so small. Touch Me, perhaps the person who understood EMIYA best, had said it had something to do King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. EMIYA might be their leader but when they sat with him at the table they were all equal, no one sat at the tables’ head because there wasn’t one.

EMIYA dropped a gentle hand on Momonga’s shoulder. “I get it,” he sighed. “The time and effort we’ve put in to looking after the guild, what it means to you… I understand, and I feel the same way. But please, in the end, no matter how much you wish for things to be different, this place isn't real. “ Those words hit Momonga like a fist to the gut. YGGDRASIL might be made of various 1’s and 0’s, it might just be a digital world, but it felt real. Everything in it, everything that had _happened_ in it, it was all real to him.

“The real worlds out there,” EMIYA said, pointing to the ceiling. “Never lose yourself in a fake world like this.”

But EMIYA was right, staying till the end was a selfish move on Momonga’s part. He and EMIYA had already said their goodbyes to everyone when the they’d left and Momonga did have work in a few hours and needed at least some sleep. Momonga might be willing to risk his health for just one more hour in the world that meant so much to him but not if it meant hurting his best friend, as ‘intentionally hurting himself’ would do. The fact that EMIYA knew just how much he was asking made it easier for Momonga to accept leaving. Momonga didn’t think he could part from YGGDRASIL if EMIYA didn’t.

“Besides,” EMIYA said with a smile, “just because this worlds gone doesn’t mean the memories are too. Just because this world was never real doesn’t mean what you felt in it wasn’t.” The mans kind words echoed his own and helped somewhat to lessen the blow, but it was still with a heavy heart that Momonga unequipped all his items and gear.

A trade window popped up in front of EMIYA. No words were shared between the two, there was no need. As the trade window filled up a lump formed in EMIYA’s throat. _It feels like ha funeral_ , EMIYA thought to himself. It was an irrational thought, Momonga was just going to log off and then carry on living his life. Perhaps he'll find a new game to play and make new friends to share adventures with. So why did it feel so final for Momonga? _After all, he isn't the one about to die_ , EMIYA remarked, calmly.

Shirou Emiya was a part of YGGDRASIL; he had been for the past twelve years. He didn't know how and he didn't know why but he knew that he was as much a part of the game as of the NPCs or monsters, yet somehow still acting as if he were a player. Once upon a time, Shirou might have tried to find a way out but he had long since given up looking for a way back to his own world. In part because it was basically impossible but also because, quite frankly, he didn't want to go back. In his world, his dream of being a Hero of Justice was unreachable. He still would have tried all the same but here, inside this game world, it wasn't just a possibility but a necessity. Heteromorphic players, despite still being human under their monstrous appearance, were being unfairly treated, targeted and persecuted. They needed saving. So, that’s what he did, Shirou Emiya went out and saved as many of them as he could. He joined a group of like-minded people and saved even more of them. He might have gone on to pretend to be a villain but he remained a hero at heart and that would never change.

Unfortunately, Shirou's decision to stay in YGGDRASIL now meant he shared the world's fate. While everyone else was able to log out and go home he could not. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen to him once the servers shutdown but it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine. When the game shutdown and its data was deleted then so too would he. In a single moment he would simply cease to exist.

Some might think he'd be upset at the news, it isn’t unreasonable for people to get angry or fearful when confronted with their own mortality, but Shirou just accepted it and moved on. He saw no point on dwelling on something he couldn’t change. If that was his fate then so be it. He'd lived a good life, or so he liked to think, and he'd accomplished his dream. While their lives were never truly on the line he’d still saved people, rescuing them from the cruelty of others _._ He fulfilled his dream and that was enough for him.

“Goodbye, EMIYA. I hope we meet each other again. Perhaps we could play Kipla together,” Momonga said hopefully. Kipla was a new game Momonga had told Shirou about, nowhere near as expansive as YGGDRASIL but supposedly just as fun. Shirou smiled, joyous at his friends enthusiasm, but he couldn't help the tinge of regret from seeping in.

“I can't, I'm sorry,” Shirou told him. When Momonga asked why, Shirou hesitated. He didn’t want to worry his friend, to cause Momonga any unnecessary pain or grief by telling him the truth. Not that he could tell the skeleton man the whole truth anyway, it was both too long and Momonga wouldn’t believe it anyway. There might be magic in YGGDRASIL but YGGDRASIL was just a game, who’d believe it actually existed in the real world, or that it resulted in a person being trapped in a DMMO-RPG.. But, something inside of Shirou just couldn’t leave Momonga without an answer of some kind. “I can't, I… it's just impossible. I won't be playing any more games after this one.”

“But wh-” Momonga began before abruptly cutting off. His eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him. _I should have expected that_ , Shirou admonished. _Momonga always was one of the smarter members of the guild._

“Do you want me to stay with you until-” Momonga cut himself off again, not being able to bring himself to finish.

“No, you go take care of yourself. Besides, I could use some time to myself.” It was better this way, Shirou believed. He wouldn't live to see tomorrow whereas his friend would, Momonga’s physical wellbeing was more important than Shirou's desire for his friend to stay.

Momonga pulled EMIYA into a hug. “We had a good run.”

“Yeah,” Shirou agreed, “we did.” Momonga stood waiting, hoping his friend would change his mind and ask him to stay. He didn't. With a heavy heart, the man named Suzuki Satoru looked out of YGGDRASIL for the last time, devastated that he'd never see his best friend again. _I wonder how you can still smile?_ He asked himself.

Shirou's final smile would stay with him for years to come.

Shirou looked at the clock, 42 and a half minutes to go. He should say goodbye to everyone else.

With his inability to log out, Shirou had to find ways to keep himself occupied beyond playing the game itself. One thing he did was hang out with Nazaricks NPC’s. Before the guild finally got themselves a guild hall Shirou would rest in the various taverns and inns that littered the world. While he no longer had a physical body his mind still needed rest. Once the guild had taken Nazarick, that became his home. He slept there, ate there, lived there. He knew all the NPC’s the guild had made by name and had memorised all of their stats and biographies; it still surprised him how in depth the other members had gotten when writing the NPCs bios.

No matter how grotesque their bodies or deranged their ‘personalities’ Shirou held each of them as dearly in his heart as their creators. Even if he didn't already know which member had created which NPC he knew that he would have been able to tell just by reading the bios. Each of his friends had left a little of themselves behind in their creations, even if they didn't know it themselves. Shirou sometimes found himself reading the various NPC bios when he was feeling especially nostalgic. They were all he had left of some of his closest friends.

Shirou walked through each of the ten floors, stopping to see each NPC briefly. He spent longer with each of the floor guardians, special NPCs that the guild had made to fight on their behalf. He felt a greater kinship with them than any other the others. During the early days of Nazarick, when enemy raids had been more frequent, Shirou had regularly fought alongside each of the floor guardians to stop the guild from losing the Tomb. With Ulberts suggestion of a final battle in the Throne Room, the final floors having finally been finished and all of Nazarick NPCs having been created fighting alongside the floor guardians became a thing of the past. While Shirou was happy that the NPCs were strong enough to protect Nazarick on their own he sometimes found himself wanting to fight alongside them again.

He visited each NPC in turn, not just the floor guardians. Due to his limited time, Shirou didn’t get to give them all a proper goodbye but it was still nice to see all of their faces one last time. After seeing them all, Shirou returned to the sixth floor. As guild master, Shirou had full access and control over the Tomb, he could change and manipulate each of the floors as and when he wanted. The guild voted to decide on what to do, which is why Shirou and Touch Me were forced to roleplay as ‘bad guys’ so much, but Shirou still had the power to do what he wanted if he so desired. He tried never to abuse it but there was one time...

Sequestered away in the far corner of Floor 6, behind a barrier that only allowed EMIYA himself could pass, Shirou had built his workshop.

Shirou's player build had gone through many changes over the years. He'd at first specced into both Knight and Archer as well as putting a decent amount of levels into Cook, Blacksmith and Survivalist, with a few stray levels in various other classes. When he joined the guild and they'd found out he only had the first level of his racial class, the one he was given as a level 1, several of his friends had launched into an immediate campaign to get him to change his build. After much nagging and convincing, Shirou now had a fair few levels in his racial class, though he in no way maxed it out like some of his friends had urged him to do. Knight, Cook and Survivalist had all been dropped completely while his Blacksmith level had been severely reduced, the levels also going into his Archer class as well. Shirou still sometimes played a blacksmith, using some of the level reset items within the guild vault, by re-organising his build for a few hours before reverting it back. He only did this when he was alone and none of the other guild members were online though, smithing was a pastime and was reserved only for his free time and never for when he needed to act as guild master. He sometimes re-specced into Cook, it was the one ability that Shirou had lost from his first world that he could honestly say he missed, but he didn’t do it nearly as often as he did with his blacksmithing. Unfortunately, his real-world skill in the art didn't transfer over to the game as well, unless he had the right class levels. That and YGGDRASILs cooking mini-game was nowhere close to the real thing. Still, he made do.

Even at his best, Shirou's blacksmith skills weren’t as high as say Amanomahitotsu, the guilds master craftsman, but he had gotten close. He likened it to his Projection magecraft of old.

While the rest of the sixth floor was under perpetual starlight, Shirou's forge was baked in a warm orange and pink glow. Blue Planet had painted the sky for him, the mans graphic design skills were phenomenal, and Shirou could never thank him enough. The sun never moved so it was impossible to tell if it was rising or setting but that didn't matter, it was exactly the same as Shirou remembered.

Shirou had designed his small homestead to be rather basic. The small brick house was used for storage and gave him access to any crafting materials he needed, it contained chests that linked up with the Nazaricks Crafts chest system. The guild had installed Nazarick with several chest systems that linked up to the guilds vault and each had been restricted to only be able to pull items from certain categories and under certain rarities from them. Chests that could access building materials were located in the forge areas of the guild with the NPC artisans, weapons and armour could only be pulled out by blacksmiths or from the armouries and so on. Even the wardrobes in each of the members rooms had been linked up to the chest system but they could only pull out items of clothing. Shirou’s chest also let him place some of his creations back into the guilds vault, giving any member access to them. Though he didn't do that with all his creations.

Sometimes, when the mood hit, Shirou designed swords he remembered from a dream. He didn't know where the dream came from but some nights he dreamt of a lonely sword standing under a lonely tree on a lonely hill. There were plenty of other swords surrounding the tree but there was a clear divide between them and the sword that stood on top. He tried to recreate the weapons he saw in the dream but only succeeded in copying their design, they lacked the power and abilities of those he knew the dream swords possessed. The only sword he knew the name of was the lonely sword but he just couldn’t bring himself to make a copy of it. He’d made his own version, differing it slightly, just to complete the dream. Just looking at it made him miss her.

As Shirou looked upon the hill one final time he realised what his dream had actually been, a vision. _I saw my death,_ he chuckled to himself _._ Shirou had built his own grave and had been none the wiser. That was a sense of irony that he just couldn’t help but find funny.

A quick look at the clock. Two minutes.

Shirou quickly moved to the top of the hill and sat at the base of the tree. He got himself comfortable and looked out at the orange sky. _It really is quite beautiful. You should be proud, Blue Planet_ , he praised. It was exactly the same as Shirou remembered. It was exactly the same as the day he’d lost her.

As the final seconds ticket down, Shirou closed his eyes. _Saber. I'm coming._

Then the second ticked some more. A near minute had passed before Shirou opened his eyes again to see everything how he'd left it. _No. Not everything_ , he said to himself, looking at his version of the lonely sword. He'd designed it on Caliburn, the sword he'd once copied from Sabers dreams and wield it alongside her, but had made some minor changes. This blade was made with thin steel and had a gold and blue pummel. Caliburn shared these with the blade but had a line of deep blue and gold that ran down the spine of the blade that Shirou had forgon in his version. The blades as well were of slightly different shape, Caliburn ran straight from tip to hilt but Shirou had designed his with a few protrusions along the blade, somewhat resembling thrones on a plants stem. It wasn’t just the blades physical appearance that had changed but the brilliance with which it shone. While his blade wasn't on the same level as Shirou remembered Caliburn being on it was closer than any blade he'd ever made before. _It's almost as strong as the copy of Caliburn I'd Traced_.

A shock ran through him. He could understand the blade. It’s lack of history, it’s young age, the exact way he’d forged it, what materials he’d used, everything jumped into his mind all at once. Structural Analysis was an ability Shirou had possessed in his first world, it let him analyse the structure and composition of anything he saw. Normally he’d have to activate the ability to use it but, on a blade, it activated instinctively. It was also more powerful when used on swords, allowing him to not only the blades shape and materials but also how it was made along with its entire history. He saw ever swing a blade had ever made, how many thrusts or swipes or cuts. He'd lost the ability upon arriving in YGGDRASIL, how had he gotten it back?! The only way Shirou could think of was if he wasn't in YGGDRASIL anymore. The game had a strict magic system that just didn’t allow his magecraft to work, YGGDRASIL using a Tier magic system to the more researched based abilities of his first world. Plus he didn’t think his new dragon body had possessed any of the magical circuits needed to perform magecraft. It seems he was wrong. But, if he really wasn’t in YGGDRASIL anymore, the question became, where was he?

Shirou looked around him. He noticed the rest of his swords had shared the same fate as his Caliburn based sword, they now gently thrummed with a power he had never given to them. Something welled up in his chest at the sight of his creations, a sense of accomplishment and…

Shirou squashed the feeling. He needed to find out what was going on. He took off as fast as he could, ignoring his forge and the slowly rising sun.

Shirou’s YGGDRASIL body was already extremely fast but the return of his Reinforcement magecraft boosted his speed even further. It didn't take him long to cross the barrier to the rest of the floor. The transition from dusk to dark was gradual, Blue Planet had gone all out to make the transition as natural and seamless as possible, which is why Shirou didn't really notice it. What Shirou did notice, however, was the immense amphitheatre that was the centre point of the entire floor and towered over everything else. The amphitheater was the same as he remembered, the corridor and floors remaining exactly the same. The familiarity was a small comfort to Shirou's slightly troubled mind, at least some things were still as he remembered. His memory of the theatre’s layout meant it didn't take long before Shirou was bursting into the central arena. Nothing. It was empty. Shirou really didn’t know what he was expecting but felt slightly disappointed all the same.

“Hey, Boss, everything okay?” A voice called out. Shirou jumped to face it and noticed it seemed to coming from the Emperors box. The box had been meant to allow important spectators to get a better view of any fights taken place on the floor below but Shirou and his guild had used it as the start point for the floors twin floor guardians, Aura and Mare.

A small, dark skinned child jumped down from the balcony. The was quite some distance between the box and the floor below but the small elfling made the jump look effortless, landing with little more that a puff of dust to show for their incredible feat.

Once they were standing, Shirou saw the child was wearing a white two-piece suit, missing the blazer. They had a red shirt underneath the suits vest and wore a necklace made from gold that had a charm in the shape of an acorn. _The Necklace of Animal Spirits_ , Shirou reminded himself. It gave a buff to a person's Charm Animal skill. The child had light blonde hair and heterochromatic eyes, one deep blue and the other forest green. They also had ears with large, upward points. They were the dark elf NPC Aura, created by Bukubukuchagama.

A second child joined her, Aura’s brother Mare. Mare was designed to be the polar opposite of his sister. The colour of his eyes were switched, for starters, and his ears pointed downwards instead of up. He wore a blue, scaled shirt instead of red and had a green cloak thrown over his shoulders, coming to a stop at the small of his back. Instead of his sisters slightly unkempt, gravity-defying hair, Mare had a bob cut but the biggest difference by far was Mare’s slim fit vest and schoolgirl skirt; if you didn't already know which one was a girl there was no way you could tell from just a glance. Mare also wore a necklace like his sister, only this one was silver and called The Necklace of Nature Spirits, meant to boost ones plant manipulation abilities. There personalities were polar opposites too.

“A-are you looking for something, Supreme One?” Mare shifted nervously as he spoke and kept his head bowed. Shirou looked over the small display of respect with an uncharacteristic level of satisfaction. When he realised this, he nearly shot back in alarm before something suddenly calmed him down.

It was magic, Shirou knew, but more importantly, it was YGGDRASIL magic.

“Something's happened,” Shirou answered, somewhat distracted. His new discovery was perhaps more confusing than the return of his magecraft. He can handle a full switch from one style of magic to the other, he’d already been forced to once before, but from what he knew of both systems of magic a blending of the two should have been impossible.

“Invaders,” Aura asked, excited.

“I'm not sure. Probably not,” Shirou answered absentmindedly. Things were quickly becoming more and more complicated. Aura visibly slouched at the news. “I think it’s something else, but I'm not entirely sure what.” Until he knew for sure he'd keep his speculations to himself.

“T-think, my Lord?” Shirou’s head whipped to Mare, visibly agitated by the boys perceived jab. It wasn't, Shirou knew, but for some reason he couldn't think of Mare’s comment as anything other than a subtle challenge to Shirou's authority, a question of his intelligence and ability to lead Nazarick. Shirou tried to calm himself down, telling himself the boy meant nothing by it, but just the thought of someone challenging his rule was enough to set him off. It took another wave of magic to settle his mind. Mare ducked his head quickly upon seeing his masters anger. The boy hugged his twisted, black, wooden staff to his chest as he attempted to hide behind it. Shirou couldn't stop the smug feeling that welled up inside but managed to keep it off of his face. He felt a near overwhelming satisfaction of having put Mare back in his place, even if it had been unnecessary.

“Yes, think,” Shirou said, unable to resist bring attention to Mare’s careless question. Perhaps it'd teach the boy to take better care of his words next time. Shirou took a moment to think before speaking again. “You two, go and inform the other floor guardians to meet me in the throne room and then I want the pair of you to head up to the Tombs entrance. I'll give you further orders there,” Shirou told them, activating his guild ring. He was gone before the twins could even acknowledge his orders.

Each of the 42 members of the guild had a ring which allowed them to teleport around the Tomb of Nazarick at will, with some minor restrictions. Shirou, with the amount of time he spent living in the Tomb, had gotten a lot of use out of his. He used the ring to teleport to the base of the stairs that led to the surface, the end of the rings range. He climbed the steps and, at the top, was immediately knew his theory was correct, he was indeed in another new world.

As another point towards the guilds ‘evil heteromorph’ theme, the Tomb of Nazarick had been located in a swamp. Shirou was currently looking out onto flatlands. It is impossible to move a guild in YGGDRASIL, combined with the weird combination of magic and magecraft and the fact that the previously mute, expressionless custom NPCs of Nazarick were not only talking, thinking and moving of their own free will, it wasn’t much of a leap for Shirou to be certain he’d jumped worlds again. _If one new world can give me an entirely new race and magic is it really too hard to think that this one might breath life into the NPCs_ , he quizzed himself.  He’d been fairly calm at the revelation but he did think about it, them now being real just wasn’t anywhere near the weirdest thing he had ever seen making it easy for Shirou to accept.

A thought struck Shirou, what would his body look like in this world? He looked down at his hands, examining the body of this new world. Moving to YGGDRASIL hadn’t actually changed his body beyond his original colouring. His once red hair and golden eyes had both turned to silver and his pale skin had since turned tanned. Looking down, Shirou saw the same dark skin from YGGDRASIL. While Shirou might have been given a new race in YGGDRASIL it was more a mechanic of the game and didn’t really affect him in any way. He wondered if, seeing that he still possessed the colouring of his dragonoid body, he’d kept his newest race too. Switching to his dragon form was something Shirou had rarely done in YGGDRASIL but he did remember that you needed to hit a certain button on the games HUD. The HUD was missing in this new world, something he really should have taken note of sooner, so he was a bit lost about how to access his dragon abilities, if he even had any. The desire to access his power was all it took and his draconic abilities leap to Shirou’s command. A rush of magic and power spread throughout his body and Shirou felt an overwhelming urge to just take to the sky. He managed to reign these impulses in but it was hard when his body yearned so heavily to indulge in the feeling of power that waking his dragon had swelled up within him.

With the confirmation that he retained his racial abilities, it wasn't too hard for Shirou to believed he'd kept his class ones as well. That would mean that those rushes of calming magic had actually been the activation of his Archer class skill, Archer’s Mind. The ability was meant to mimic the calm and focused state of Kyudo, the Japanese art of the bow. In-game, it gave him a buff to his mind magic resistance, in this new world it seemed to help with forcefully calming himself when overcome by his own emotions.

Each new discovery was another piece of the puzzle, giving Shirou a clearer picture of just what it was that was going on. Unfortunately, each new piece just showed how big the puzzle really was and how many pieces Shirou still had left to find. _I guess I'll just have to find the rest of them then_ , he said to himself.

“L-lord EMIYA.” Shirou turned to Aura and Mare. Mare shifted from side to side while Aura just stood with her hands behind her head and a large grin plastered on her face. He waved them over. It took a moment for the two to get over their shock at seeing the plains rather than the swamp they were used to but Shirou was patient and waited for the two to come back to reality before talking.

“Mare, I want you to get a lay of the land. Talk to plants and trees if you must but try to stay hidden. We’ve no idea where we are or what we’re up against.” Mare nodded his head and took off. Shirou then addressed Aura.

“Find out what lives around here. Focus on common fauna but if you come across any notable or rare creatures, magical or otherwise, make a note. Don't let yourself be seen. I want to keep our presence here as quiet as possible until we’re sure of what's out there.”

“Right you are, Boss,” Aura said, snapping off a quick salute. She took off giggling. Her childlike enthusiasm brought a small smile to Shirou's face. She looks so carefree. _She is only 70_ , Shirou reminded himself.

Shirou waited until the twins were out of sight before walking back down the stairs. Once there, a quick activation of his guild ring teleported him outside the throne room. Shirou stared up at the twin iron doors, one depicting a devil, the other an angel. The two were locked in an eternal clash but neither side held a clear advantage. They were both smiling. _Flatfoot’s idea_ , Shirou reminded himself. A representation of the never ending fight between good and evil. Shirou waited at the door, slightly apprehensive about what was behind it. Shirou noted that the twins personalities actually closely matched the bios Bukubukuchangama had given them. They acted just as he’d imagined they would had they actually been alive, as they now were. The problem was that they were some of the more moderate NPC’s of Nazarick. Leaning heavily into their ‘role’ as creatures of evil, the guilds various creations reflected that. Very few had what Shirou would call an ‘agreeable’ personality. If the same remained true for the others, assuming whatever happened to the twins also happened to the rest of Nazarick NPCs, Shirou wasn't sure how they would react to his presence. One in particular was of great concern to him.

Shirou knew all of the NPCs biographies and some of them were undeniably evil but one stood out the most, Demiurge. Demiurge, Shirou decided, was the most dangerous NPC in all of Nazarick. Not because he was the most powerful, he wasn't weak but there were others far stronger than him. Instead, Demiurge possessed a much greater weapon, the keenest mind in the Tomb. Demiurge had been tailor-made by the guild to be the best commander possible and placed in charge of the guilds defences. While Demiurge had been created at the behest of the entire guild and the guild itself had decided on how and where to spend his levels it was Ulbert who had designed him and made his character bio. Meaning, Demiurge’s sharp intellect was now paired with an extreme sadism and an undying loyalty to the guild itself. While Shirou might be the guild master he worried that if Demiurge ever got the idea to take over the guild and run Nazarick himself then he might just be able to do it. The part of Shirou that had reared itself at Mare was now raging against such a thought. Shirou was determined to keep his position, he was the leader of Ainz Ooal Gown and he was determined to keep it that way.

Beyond Demiurge, there were the other floor guardians to consider. Most were heteromorph races and their character biographies reflected their respective races dark natures. For some reason, it wasn’t their potentially evil nature that bothered Shirou, rather it was the possibility that they could betray him. Evil races weren’t exactly known for their loyalty, after all. More than just wanting to keep his power, Shirou found himself wanting to prove his superiority over the guardians, he wanted to own not just them but their undying loyalty too. They were never allowed to betray him.

Shirou was surprised how he was taking all this, by how he was acting. While Archers Mind had helped to stop him from becoming overwhelmed with shock, that didn't explain why he was taking everything so well, nor did it explain these new feelings and desires. While he could easily come to terms with world jumping and NPCs coming to life Shirou’s growing need to prove his superiority and his almost prideful desire to keep his position within the guild were very much new and Shirou was uncertain as to where they came from. They certainly hadn’t been a part of him before the jump. The fact that he found himself so easily accepting that these feelings were his rather than freaking out and believing something might be influencing him should have been cause for concern but he found himself easily accepting even this.

Shirou decided that it could all wait for later and pushed open the door. “Time to face the music,” he muttered to himself. Once the door fully opened and he was admitted into the throne room he immediately focused on the kneeling figures around the throne. In front of the throne there were two lines, the first made of all the floor guardians bar five and the second, closest to him, was made up of the Pleiades Maids and their leader, the butler Sebas. On their knees next to the throne were two of the missing guardians Albedo, the overseer of the floor guardians, and Demiurge. Their position as the two top most ranking NPCs in Nazarick was most likely responsible for their place ahead of the lines. With the twins out on their scout mission, the final missing floor guardian was Gargantua, but that was probably because it couldn't actually fit into the throne room. The golem certainly lived up to its name.

Shirou walked through the ranks slowly. His eyes drifted to each of the creatures before him, scanning for any movement or signs of threat. There was none. Still, he remained cautious. Shirou climbed the steps before the throne calmly, putting him level with Albedo and Demiurge. He stopped briefly in between the pair and scrutinised them. They didn't so much as twitch. _Did whatever affect the twins not affect any of them as well_ , he wondered. They were acting just like regular NPCs. Shirou took the throne without issue.

A moment passed and nothing happened. Shirou thought his ‘subjects’ might rise when he was seated but they didn't. He tried to remember the commands YGGDRASIL used to order NPCs. “Rise,” he tried. He didn't think it was correct, ‘stand’ sounded closer to him, but it didn't hurt to-

Everyone rose to their feet. Okay... so it did work.

“Will the twins be joining us, my Lord,” Demiurge asked. His voice was as smooth as silk. Shirou wasn't sure what type of voice he was expecting from the demon but he couldn't deny, Demiurges voice fit him well. It was just soft enough to lull the unwitting into a false sense of comfort and security, his dulcet tone like honey being poured down an ear, but just too soft so as to be suspicious to anyone with a wit of sense. He was just too in control of himself, too perfect, to not come across as ‘wrong’. Shirou found he liked it.

“No, I've sent them to scout the surrounding area. It appears we aren't in YGGDRASIL anymore.” Everyone reacted differently.

Sebas and the Pleiades kept their faces blank but all of them bar Sebas did slightly furrow their brows. Sebas himself took the news with a calm stoicism, only caring to serve any orders his Lord might give. A perfect butler, just as Touch Me intended. He was perhaps the only one Shirou was certain wouldn’t betray him.

Victim buzzed slightly. As an angel, he had a strong connection to the divine. For him not to have sensed what happened must have set him on edge, nothing short of a god could have the power to move all of Nazarick to another world and not having sensed the divine that did it was causing the sacrificial foetus great distress. Albedo looked inquisitive but unconcerned, her full attention was placed solely on Shirou himself.

Shalltear looked gleeful. It wasn't hard to guess what she thought, her bloodlust was strong and Shalltear had been programmed by Peroroncino to actively seek out new species to drink from in an effort to find the tastiest blood in existence. Peroroncino wasn’t as big a roleplayer as other members and, as such, left a lot of Shalltear’s personality blank, instead filling the biography space with a list of things he wanted his ‘vampire bride’ to be into. Giving her a strong bloodlust was about as far down traditional vampirism Peroroncino went, preferring instead to give her more and more fetishes. Shirou was slightly curious as to what sort of personality this gave, as a lot of those desires were fairly contradictory, but he was far more wary. He’d need to keep an eye on her in the future. Peroroncino hadn’t given her any self control either, he hadn’t exactly planned for her actually coming to life, after all. If she went too far in a bid to fulfill her desires Shirou might be forced to step up and reign her in.

Cocytus was the most apprehensive by far. His mind was always on the next fight, the next battle, and the pride he held for himself as a warrior, that Warrior Takemikazuchi had placed into him (a nod to the samurai of old and their bushido code), was certain to have the large beetle-like creature worried about what new enemies Nazarick would face and their potential strength. He was a skilled fighter and held much-deserved pride in his abilities but Takemikazuchi had specifically written that he never become overconfident. Cocytus was a cautious fighter.

Demiurge looked frustrated, though that might have been underselling it a bit. The demon had been filled with information on all the races, abilities and environments of YGGDRASIL by the guild in an effort to make him unbeatable. In YGGDRASIL, your level wasn’t the same determining factor it was in other games. It was more of a guide to show how powerful or varied a person's abilities might be. In YGGDRASIL, knowledge trumped all. Demiurge was programmed in such a way to be able to best guess any move an enemy might make by having him assess their racial features, their armour and weapons and their magic and to then work out a possible counter to them. It was quite possible such knowledge was now useless. Demiurge was the most prideful being in Nazarick bar none, was it any wonder he seemed annoyed that his valued knowledge and intellect were now possibly worthless. Shirou relaxed slightly at this.

Demiurges pride would have him furiously filling in the gaps in his knowledge before even thinking about anything else. This gave Shirou time to learn about his new changes, get a better grasp on where he stood with the others in Nazarick and better solidify his position as the Leader of Nazarick. The demons intelligence was still something to be wary of but was no longer something to be feared. Until this new world was fully understood, Demiurges main focus would be on that. Shirou just had to avoid being so incompetent Demiurge saw him as a threat to his learning. So, nothing too hard then. But Shirou found he didn’t want to just be looked over by Demiurge, he didn’t want that to be the reason he still ruled. No, he would show Demiurge how poor a decision working against him actually was.

“What shall be done, my Lord,” Demiurge asked. There was a seriousness in his eyes, a focus, as his attention was solely on Shirou. Shirou kept his face as blank as possible and his thoughts hidden.

“There's little we can do until the twin return and we have a better idea of where we are and what we're up against. For now, I want all of Nazarick on alert, raise all defences. Albedo, I want a full count of all area guardians, their subordinates and any subordinates of the floor guardians. Also, check in and make sure we haven't lost Gargantua.”

Gargantua was the only floor guardian not created by a member of Ainz Ooal Gown. The guild won it through a special event held every six months and its stats were so high it was immediately assigned a floor to watch over. As it wasn't a custom NPC it lacked a character bio and even Shirou didn't have the ability to set one for him. The game devs had set basic information about it but it wasn't anything new, mostly being a copy and paste of the lore information of a regular golem from one of the many lore books that littered YGGDRASIL. The only thing different was a line stating Gargantua was so large and powerful because it'd been created by tapping into the leylines of Midgard and drawing power straight from the World Tree itself.  Shirou wondered briefly what Gargantua’s personality would be. It lacked a bio so would it be given a default personality or did it just lack one entirely? Perhaps it was created via YGGDRASIL lore information, in which case Gargantua would be best described as a mindless automaton.

“Sebas,” Shirou called.

“Yes, my Lord?” the butler answered, lowering his head.

“I want a full count of all staff and workers within the Tomb. All craftsmen, especially, need to be accounted for. As for the rest of you, return to your stations and prepare. I will call you all again when the twins return.” He then dismissed them all. So far they all listened to him, a welcome sign, but Shirou wondered why. Only Demiurge had been explicitly written to be loyal to the guild. Until he knew what made the rest so loyal he would have to remain careful. He might be powerful but he didn't want to test it against all of Nazarick.

Another thought struck him. _Since when was I so distrustful?_ Shirou asked himself. Shirou had only just begun to scratch the surface of his changes, perhaps they went deeper than he thought. Distrust, pride and a desire for leadership were all things he'd lacked before but now seemed to possess in spades. He needed to find out what had caused these changes and fast.

Still, Shirou couldn’t find it in himself to be worried. How bad could these changes actually be?


	2. Chapter 2

Shirou spun the crown gently in his hands, a soft smile playing on his lips. Whereas once he had felt only embarrassment when looking at the thing, he now looked at it with forlorn fondness. Even the inherent superiority such an item possessed, that he once felt so uncomfortable with, no longer bothered him. While Shirou had never been adverse to leading if the situation required it, he had never wanted to wear something that symbolised that power and status. Unfortunately, his old guildmates disagreed, and thus, when it came time to decide on what their Guild Item would be they voted on making a crown. The very idea of wearing something leaking arrogance was something Shirou was very much against, he felt it demeaned his opponent's to in any way look down upon them, but then, that was the point, wasn’t it? The guild had made this item into a crown specifically so Shirou would have to look like an arrogant king every time the items power was needed, a joke at his expense. Only now did he see the humour of someone like him wearing a crown like this. His newfound appreciation for the irony of his friends' joke only served to make him miss them all the more.

The crown was called the Crown of Ainz Ooal Gown and it had been created only thanks to a massive effort from every member of the guild. It was made from celestial gold, an extremely rare find, which had been chosen for both its high magic conductivity and because it was the ‘colour of kings’, as one of his friends had put it. The crown was inlaid with several gems stones that the guild had spent months collecting, many of them cashing in their sick days or holiday leave just to be able to dedicate more time to collecting the items. These gems were extremely powerful magical artefacts that gave anyone who wore the crown access to each of their abilities; the ability to summon powerful elemental creatures, open up Warp Gates or pull items directly from the guilds vault no matter where the person was. The crown itself was of a deceptively simple design, looking like little more than a circuit with the customary pieces of metal that rose from the crown. Only, the rising pieces of metal were sharp, jagged and twisted, much like the rest of the piece. The metal band the encircled the wearers head looked to have been twisted together and had many short, sharp spikes jutting out from it that could cut you if you weren't careful. It looked more like an evil mockery of a crown than a real one, it wouldn't be too far to call it a crown of thrones. Considering why they’d made the item into a crown in the first place, instead of something like a staff, Shirou counted his lucky stars they’d kept the design so simple instead of making it into a more gaudy looking thing.

When Shirou had first been presented with the crown, the whole guild had been organised into the throne room, those that could fit at least. All the servants, monsters, guardians and guild members had crammed into the room, leaving only a thin corridor from the door to the throne free so Shirou could walk down. Momonga had been the one responsible for keeping Shirou occupied long enough for everyone else to set things up before bringing him to the ceremony. When Shirou walked through the doors and realised what was going on it was too late. With Momonga behind him, there was no turning back. If he wasn’t so embarrassed at the time, Shirou might have been able to remember his guild ring at teleport out. Trumpets sounded from the walls and confetti rained from the ceiling. Cheering erupted from the players while the NPCs were forced to perform the 'clap' gesture on repeat. There was a slight delay between gestures but that somehow only added to the whole thing, it almost seemed like they were mocking him. When Momonga had finally finished pushing Shirou towards the throne, Albedo stepped forward to crown him.

Tabula, Albedo's creator, had once joked that, as a supreme, evil being, Shirou needed a woman so madly in love with and devoted to him they would fulfil all of his ‘wicked desires’. When Shirou had flushed at him the rest of the guild pounced and forced Tabula to change Albedos bio to reflect just that. Having ‘the woman who loved him more than life itself’ be the one to crown him king of Nazarick had just been the finishing touch to the whole thing. It was a day they all looked back on and laughed at, though Shirou could’ve done without Tabula changing Albedos settings, or at least have him change them back.

Shirou had been hearing frenzied flaps from the corner of the room since he'd first picked up his crown. He'd done it on a whim, a desire to remember a time when he and his friends had all been together and happy, but Albedo seemed to think otherwise. Or perhaps, hoped. No matter how excited Albedo got at the thought of Shirou wearing his twisted crown, he refused to put it on. “It's not my colour,” was the excuse he gave, turning around and tossing the item onto the throw pillow it rested on when not in use. In truth, while Shirou was no longer embarrassed by it he was still apprehensive about wearing it. His new found pride only extended to his position as guild master, he had no desire to be called king, as such a crown would make him.

The flapping hadn't stopped. Shirou spared a quick glance for the succubus but that only made her flap harder. Her wings were attached at her lower back, sticking out of slits that ran down the sides of her dress. Albedo’s flapping was so furious she was dislodging some of her feathers, Shirou reminded himself to get someone to clean them up.  _ Perhaps I should have them store them away _ , he mused, vaguely remembering that succubus’ feathers were usual in some higher level potions. Albedo also seemed to be rubbing her legs together, Shirou wasn't so innocent as to not know what that meant, and his glance had only inflamed her more, as evidenced when she began to cup herself. Shirou turned away quickly, his cheeks burning. He did  _ not  _ want to watch his servant masturbate in the corner of the room to thoughts of him.

“Albedo,” he called out. He had no real reason for doing so but giving her something else to do was the only thought he'd come up with to get her to stop.

“Yes, my Lord?” Her voice was filled with desire and reverence.

“Have the scouts returned,” he asked quickly. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

He heard her brief hum of displeasure. 

“Yes, my Lord. Nothing new from the forest, it still teems with animals regularly found in Midgard, with creatures like goblins, ogres and trolls being the most common types of monsters.” Shirou nodded along to her report. As she said, this was nothing new to him. Albedo hummed to herself, almost like she was trying to remember something. Shirou risked a glance at her. While her wings had stopped beating her legs were still slowly rubbing together and her hand rested on her mound. He was thankful she wasn't looking at him. He turned away before she noticed him staring. “I suppose there was that human village but nothing important.”

He whipped back to her in shock. “And why wasn't I told?” Shirou was in disbelief.

“I didn't think it was important,” Albedo told him absentmindedly.

Shirou felt a rush of anger.  _ Archer’s Mind _ , he called out silently. The ability was a passive one in YGGDRASIL but Shirou had discovered he could invoke it on command in this world, though it still did activate on its own too. He wasn't fast enough for Albedo not to notice. The denizens of Nazarick all possessed this uncanny ability to tell when they had displeased Shirou in any way. It didn't matter how minor or brief the displeasure or discomfort was, they always seemed to know. For some reason, they lacked this insight with any other being but him.

“I wanted to be informed of  _ any _ discovery, Albedo. No matter how minor.” Shirou was still getting used to his servants’ feelings towards humanity. It had worried him at first but since discovering that the NPCs could remember anything that was said around them, even from their time in Nazarick, he understood their resentment somewhat. While none of the NPCs had been around during the ‘culls’ they still knew a lot about them from stories told around them by the Supreme Beings, the collective name the NPCs gave to Shirou and his old guildmates.

After properly admonishing Albedo, and ordering her to never again leave out any information, no matter how ‘minor’, Shirou called for Albedo to bring him the Mirror of Remote Viewing. He could have summoned the item himself by putting on the guild crown but, other than simply not wanting to wear the thing, he wanted some time alone and properly calm himself from Albedo's mistake. Shirou disliked using Archer’s Mind, preferring a more natural route to calm himself. Albedo gave a small bow before walking off to fulfil his command. With his watcher gone, Shirou sagged in his chair.

Things had gotten both easier and harder in the week since first arriving in the new world. On one hand, he didn't have to worry about his subjects loyalties. They were fanatically loyal to Nazarick but more so to Shirou himself as the last of the Supreme Beings, the leader of them at that. On the other hand, he was now the leader of a group of fanatical monsters that  _ no one _ could reliably call ‘morally good’. What had once been an extension of a bunch of people playing pretend was now a real group of honest to god monsters with fewer morals between the lot of them than a group of convicted murders. Shirou had no idea what to do with them or even what he felt about them. He was torn between a sense of disgust at their open willingness to kill and torture humans but also possessed a deep love for them due to their companionship, albeit unknowing, over the years and the fact they were reminders of some of his best friends.

He knows what he should do. As a Hero of Justice, he knew that they were a threat to humanity, perhaps even a threat to the whole world, and if that truly was the case then they needed to be dealt with. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He reasoned that, because they had yet to do anything you could truly label ‘bad’, he had no need to kill them, perhaps he could even turn them ‘good’. Somewhat valid reasons but not the whole truth. Whenever he thought about the evil deeds they might one day commit, Shirou found he couldn't hate them for it. They were just indulging in the nature their creators gave them and that wasn’t their fault; they shouldn’t be punished for another’s mistakes. There was also the fact Shirou found his stomach turning at the thought of ever killing one of them but he did his best to shove that thought as deep down as he could. Such feelings couldn’t afford to be factored into such a decision. The final reason Shirou kept them alive was the sense of ownership he felt for them. As the leader of Nazarick, they were his, plain and simple. His new sense of pride roiled against the idea of anyone, even himself, ever harming them. They were his subordinates, his property, and no one was allowed to hurt them.

The conflict between the path Shirou knew he had to follow as a Hero of Justice and the desires of these new instincts threatened to tear him apart. He could put it off for now but he knew, one day, he would be forced to make a choice. Just as they couldn't deny their nature, Shirou couldn't deny his, and they were, unfortunately, conflicting.

Albedo soon walked back into Shirou's study clutching a large mirror to her chest. “For you, my love,” she said, breathy. Shirou took the mirror with a small nod of thanks. He'd used the mirror a few times back in YGGDRASIL but using it in the new world was difficult. The lack of HUD meant there were no controls with which to move the mirrors view. Shirou spent a few minutes learning how to use the mirror before finally getting the hang of it. It was relatively simple in the end. With Albedos help, Shirou soon shifted the mirrors view over the village. The village was fairly small, a couple of houses made out of wood and wattle. Then Shirou noticed the people. The mirrors view was too high up for an accurate view but Shirou could see enough to notice that a lot of people were moving about, and fast. He zoomed in the field of view and saw that knights in plate armour were attacking the village. He was moving within an instant.

Shirou grabbed the crown from its pillow, this was no time to think about it. He threw it onto his head and activated the Warp Gate. “My Lord?!” Shirou hadn't stopped to get the villages exact coordinates so his Gate was a little off but he did emerge somewhat near the village outskirts.  _ I can make it _ , he told himself, but first, he had to deal with the knights in front of him.

“What the hell?!” One of the knights cursed at Shirou's sudden arrival. Shirou didn't wear armour or weapons around Nazarick, it was his home and he considered doing so impolite. He made exceptions for when other players were around, guildmate or invader, or when he was acting in his capacity as guild master, but never when he was just performing administrative duties, as he had just been doing. A mistake on his part. Shirou briefly considered summoning a blade from Nazaricks treasury but decided against doing so, he didn't have time. Also, he just didn't need to.

Shirou burst forth with a speed that surprised his foe. The soldier was already mid-swing but to Shirou, it looked to be moving in slow motion, he didn’t see the need in even trying to block. While looking at the man's sword, Shirou’s Structural Analysis activated. 

It was a well-worn blade, a few years old at most but had seen plenty of action. There was nothing really remarkable about it, it's owner was a career soldier but not a particularly standout one and the blade itself was of average craft, the blacksmith who made the blade had forged it as part of a much larger order placed by the Baharuth Emperor to arm his soldiers and, as such, no noticeable effort had been spent when making it. The only notable thing about it was that the blade had recently changed hands. 

Shirou rushed in and with a single punch caved in the soldier's breastplate and chest. He wasn't dead yet but he soon would be. It wouldn't be a fast death either, the man's ribs had fractured into tiny shards that had pierced his lungs. If he was lucky his lungs would fill up with enough blood to drown himself him long before he’d die from asphyxiation, neither were particularly nice ways to go but one was certainly faster than the other. Shirou moved on to the second soldier and saw more of the same from his blade. The sword had a different blacksmith but that was the only real difference. It had also changed hands around the same time as the first blade and had been made as part of a bulk order that had been commissioned not soon after the first. Shirou batted away the blade with his bare hand, confident his base defence stat was higher than his opponent's attack. A quick backhand broke the second soldier's neck, killing him instantly. The third soldier panicked and tried to run but Shirou was on him in a second and obliterated his spine.

With the knights dealt with, Shirou turned his attention on the two girls the soldiers had been chasing. They were both huddled together on the floor, with the larger of the two sporting a large gash on her back. He was almost surprised the girl hadn't bled out but decided to instead focus on tending to her wounds. A basic health potion was pulled from the vault and Shirou tried to give it to the girl. “Here,” he said.

The older girl took a quick glance at her saviour before letting out a frightened scream. Shirou hurried to calm the girl down, almost begging her to take the potion. She took the potion but couldn’t keep the fear out of her eyes. Shirou didn’t mind, so long as she was safe. There was a brief moment where the girls younger sister had tried to wrestle the potion out of the older girls hands, afraid of what it might do, but the older girl soon swallowed it down, a relief to her rescuer. The potions healing helped to ease the girls' suspicions but, after seeing what he’d just done to those knights, they were still cautious of him. That was probably smart of them. Once the older girl had healed up, Shirou excused himself to go and help out the village but, just before he did, the older girl asked him a question.

“W-what's your name?” Shirou nearly answered but stopped himself, he had no problems giving out his name but he spied an opportunity. For the past few days, Shirou had been thinking of the possibility of other players in this new world. It stood to reason that, if he was transported here, then others who'd stayed to watch the servers end have been transported to the new world as well. Shirou wanted to get in contact with them, to gather them together and protect them, they were lost in a brand new world with no idea what was going on, after all. Not many people would have stayed for the shutdown but he was almost certain that those that did would be hardcore YGGDRASIL supporters. People like that were bound to have heard of one of the top guilds in the game and, if they didn't pay attention to that sort of thing, then they were bound to know the name of the guild who won the ‘Culling War’, it was a famous YGGDRASIL story in online forums, at least according to Momonga. EMIYA, while a big part in the guilds success during that time, wouldn't be as well known as the guild itself.

“Call me Ainz Ooal Gown,” Shirou told her. Perhaps if he continued to do good deeds like this one he could spread the name of his guild so it would eventually reach the ears of other players. Nazarick had become a safe haven for heteromorphic players during its existence in YGGDRASIL, the guild offering protect even to those who weren't within its ranks. Shirou wanted to turn Nazarick into a shelter for any who needed it, regardless of race and regardless if they were players. Just before he left, Shirou considered the possibility of the girls' getting attacked again, while they might be safe from the soldiers they were in the forest Nazarick scouts had mentioned were teeming with monsters. An item sprung to mind that might help the two so Shirou took out a couple. Horn of the Goblin General, was a low-level items that players accidently gathered from time to time but never really used. Thanks to the hundreds of players once associated with the guild, Nazarick had thousands of them stockpiled. The item summoned a small pack of goblins to the Hornblowers aid. Not extremely useful, especially considering such creatures were only a problem for low level players, even when in groups. But from Shirous observations of the power of the denizens of the new world, even a small pack of the creatures would be enough to protect the two girls. Shirou handed the items over.

“If you need help just blow,” he told them. If he had more time he might have stopped to explain just what the Horn did but the other villagers still needed his help first.

During his sprint towards the village, Shirou assigned his Re-Action points. Spells and skills required a small preparation time to use in YGGDRASIL, the stronger the attack the longer the prep, but Re-Actions allowed players to skip this setup and preset certain abilities that could be used instantaneously. Re-Actions were intended to be used in response to an opponent's attack, allowing a person to block or dodge, but as they were activated on command you could use abilities to augment your attacks or to simply use one _as_ an attack. They had to be prepared before a battle and, unless you had an ability that stated otherwise, they couldn’t be changed or used again until the fight was over. All classes had one Re-Action as default but some classes could earn abilities that gave them more, these were usually classes like Archer or Wizard because of their vulnerability at close range. There was a limit to what you could skills you could assign to a Re-Action point. A third tier spell, or a Martial Skill of equal level, was the most you could assign to a single Re-Action point but you could spend more points to ready a stronger attack if you had the points to spend. If, like Shirou, you had three Re-Action points you could prepare three third tier spells or one ninth tier spell. Three was the most Re-Actions you could get, meaning tenth and super tier spells could never be prepared. Shirou set all of his three Re-Actions to the skill Requip. It was an ability that allowed players to quickly switch out their current equipment for another piece from their Favourites List. Shirou used all his Re-Actions immediately to change his armour, his weapons and his helmet just before bursting out of the forest and into the village proper.

Shirou landed in the village with a thud. It wasn't a booming noise but still loud enough to draw the attention of all the soldier nearby. Their equipment was no different from their comrades. His Structural Analysis activated once more on sight of their weapons, again confirming they were all made from various blacksmiths and had recently changed hands. He ripped them all to shreds.

Shirou's weapons of choice was a set of twin falchions that were coloured silver and black, the same colour as his armour. Both blades were coloured the inverse of the other, having their primary and secondary colours switch. The left blade was a dazzling silver with black creeping up through the blade. The blade almost looked like it was going to burst from radiance. It didn’t actual produce any light but it was still hard to look at, blinding people as if it did. This was due to the blade's mild blindness effect that it gained thanks to its celestial materials. It wasn’t too powerful, causing the effect to be little more than a minor distraction to most decently leveled players, But Shirou got some use out of it. He liked to throw the blade as people tended to turn their heads away from it to stop the blinding rather than leaping out of its path, giving Shirou enough time to close the distance and attack. The right blade was pure black with silver creeping throughout. Even thought the black was a demonic metal that seemed to eat the light around it was the celestial metal looked like it was corrupting the blade, turning it into a less pure evil creation. It was a rather odd sight to see, you instinctively rejected the presence of the silver for being a corrupting influence despite it actually making the blade more ‘good’. This blade’s ability was a high level corrosive effect meant to eat through armour. In-game, the defensive stat attached to a piece of armour was added to your own natural defence stat to give you your overall defence total. The same was true for weapons and a persons attack stat. The Corrosive effect in YGGDRASIL meant you ignored a set amount of defence from a piece of armour, but Shirou’s blade had such high corrosiveness that it ignored all armour defensive boosts entirely, leaving Shirou’s combined weapon and natural attack stat to go up against just his opponent's natural defence stat. Shirou didn’t know how it would act in this world but he assumed it would be closer to the abilities description rather than the effect it actually possessed in YGGDRASIL, as all the YGGDRASIL abilities in the new world seemed to do. The only part of the two blades that weren't silver or black were their pummels, which were coloured gold. They weren't exact copies of Archers blades but Shirou had modelled them off the Servants own weapons of choice. The blades were so powerful and so sharp they cut through the basic steel armour of the soldiers like a hot knife through butter. 

Once all the soldiers in the immediate area were dead, Shirou moved off to find more. He cut through several streets worth of soldiers before finally reaching the town square. Everyone in the square was frozen still upon the arrival of this mysterious warrior.

“Who are y-” a soldier went to ask while another charged at him with a furious roar. Shirou moved before the knight even reached him. The two halves of the knight tumbled through the air and a new coat of blood painted Shirou’s sword. He neither relished the kill nor was he disheartened at having been forced to do so. Still, Shirou couldn’t help but hope his display of overwhelming might would cause all the other soldiers to stand down. It didn’t. Shirou moved onto the next soldier as soon as he saw him move, before people had even full registered what was happening. One moment he was there, the next, he was cutting down another charging swordsman. The fifth soldier was more competent than the others, at least attempting to throw up a guard, but Shirou cut him down with ease as his blades sank into the metal of the man's armour without difficulty. Shirou stopped there once he saw no one else rushing to take him on, all of them rooted in place.

“Throw down your weapons and you won't be harmed,” Shirou told them. 

The ultimatum must've been the last straw for the petrified captain as he screamed out “kill him, kill him.” He then started offering gold to the man who dealt the killing blow to Shirou before turning to run. Shirou was enraged. The mans utter cowardice set off something inside of him that roared in fury. Fire took over as Shirous vision clouded and he threw his twin blades after the fleeing man, aiming for the knees. The captains legs were taken out from underneath him, his now limp body flopping to the floor. It took a few seconds for what happened to even process in the man's brain, let alone the pain of losing his legs. Shirou's lack of weaponry must have galvanised the rest of the men as they once more charged him with swords drawn. None of them were laying down their blades. A pity.

Dragonoids had access to less spells and abilities than any other race. Though, what few they were capable of using were far and away more powerful than any used by all the other races. Even if using the same spell, unless someone’s magical attack stat was ridiculously high, with a few buffs thrown in as well, a dragonoids spell was guaranteed to be stronger. Combined with their much higher base stats, being given a greater amount of points to assign to them when leveling up, dragonoids were a powerful but limited race to play. Considering knowledge usually trumped power in YGGDRASIL, playing a dragonoid was considered a risky move unless you knew what you were doing. In any case, their power couldn’t be denied. All abilities they were capable of using were stronger than any other race or classes. This included Re-Actions. Member of the dragonoid race had access to a racial ability that reset their Re-Action points upon every successfully hit against an opponent with any sort of attack, magic or physical, so long as the attack did damage. While this ability was extremely powerful, it essentially meant a dragonoid could dodge one attack for every hit they made, it didn't come without drawbacks. Mainly, Re-Actions still had to be set before they could be used, you couldn't pick and choose them as and when you needed them. Essentially, you needed to be able to not only fight off your opponent but also predict what skill you might need to help you win and then try your best to mentally assign them while your opponent hammered away at you. The sheer concentration required was enough to put most people off of doing this. The other drawback was that it reset on  _ every _ hit. It didn't matter if you had unused Re-Action points, assigned or not, upon your attack dealing damage all your Re-Action slots were wiped clean and reactivated, once more having to be re-assigned before being used. In essence, making it a choice for dragonoid players between dealing damage or keeping their Re-Action. In a game where overcoming your opponents abilities was better than dealing damage, sometimes, getting in an extra hit was simply the wrong choice to make.

In this fight though, these drawbacks matter little. Shirou wasn't worried about his opponent doing damage so didn’t have to worry about splitting his attention. He set his Re-Actions to the same skill as before, Requip.

A bow suddenly appeared in Shirou's hand, a smooth, black piece of wood with a gentle curve. It wasn't anywhere near one of his more powerful long range weapons but it was by far his favourite. It would be more than enough here. A sword almost struck at Shirou's back but he kicked off before it hit, not that it would have mattered anyway, no one here was strong enough to hurt him even if he wasn’t wearing armour. Shirou's leap put him right in front of a charging soldier, there was barely time to react before Shirou used him as a springboard, pulverising the man in the process. Shirou used him to backflip into the air and fire off several magic arrows that obliterated their targets.

Shirou landed gently but pushed off again, this time kicking up some dirt in the process. His feet pummelled soldier after soldier as he ran across them, his arrows punched through plate mail with each shot fired. Soon enough, there was no soldier left alive bar the captain Shirou had de-legged. Another Requip had his bow switching out for his falchions.

Shirou stalked towards the injured man. The captain had tried to crawl away from the battle but hadn't made it far. A sick glee overcame the dragonoid at the mans feeble display. He reminded Shirou of a worm, crawling in the dirt. The comparison fit the man rather well, Shirou thought. In the distance, Shirou noticed a rider, a survivor of the battle no doubt. He briefly toyed with the idea of shooting them down, they were nowhere near out of range of his sight or his bow, but decided against it. With how far out they were, they must have run as soon as Shirou gave the offer to surrender. As a man of his word, Shirou decided to let the man live. His attention returned to the captain, who had quickly turned to begging.

“Please, please. I'll give you gold, treasure.” Shirou watched the man unmoved. He thought, had this happened in his first world, he might have spared the man. Without his legs, in a world like this one, the man wouldn’t exactly be a threat to anyone ever again. Once, Shirou might have felt pity for him, but now Shirou only looked at him as if he were dirt, staining life itself with his presence. He might survive if left alone, he might not, but either way, Shirou planned to kill him all the same. “Or women,” the man tried, seeing his other offers had fallen on deaf ears. “I can give you women, lots of women. I can even get you exotic ones, those of a subhuman race perha-” Shirou's sword exited the back of the man's skull before he could finish. The dying embers of his rage had risen to new heights at the worms words.  _ Heteromorphic slaves _ , he snarled to himself. The very idea was disgusting. Human  _ arrogance  _ was disgusting.

Archer’s Mind was needed to help calm him down.

Shirou turned to the villagers he'd saved. They'd been rounded up in the centre of the square, to be executed most likely, and hadn’t move at all during the fight. Shirou was thankful for that, he trusted himself enough to admit they probably wouldn’t have been harmed during the fight but why take the chance. The villager chief approached Shirou. “Hero,” he cried. Shirou blushed under the praise.

“Please. Nothing so impressive,” Shirou said shyly. The man took special notice of his saviour's apparent reluctance towards the title and gave a brief chuckle. The adrenaline of his near death combined with the oddness of the extreme humility showed by someone of Shirou's caliber was enough to give the man a good, hearty laugh.

“Oh? Then what of the ease with which you took down these men, is such a thing not possible for only Heroes,” the chief asked. Shirou didn't have an answered and agreed that the man probably had a point. What he'd just done did sound like something from a heroic legend.  _ The swiftness, at least _ , Shirou corrected.  _ What I did was nowhere near as heroic or grand as what some heroes are known for _ . His thoughts drifted to the heroes and legends of his first world, to Saber.

The man offered Shirou a reward for his actions but he turned it down. The man insisted but Shirou refused again. This happened a few more times with the chief getting more and more agitated every time. Seeing the mans discomfort, Shirou eventually relented, there wasn’t really much Shirou wanted and he could get it all without the man's help anyway. Shirou didn’t want to leave the already poor village in an even worse state than it already was, especially after the tragedy it had just suffered, so he asked for a reward that would cost the village nothing, information. “If you must give me something then perhaps you could tell me about these lands. I'm a traveller, I don’t know much about them.” The chief quickly agreed.

As the rest of the village went about rebuilding their lives and homes, the chief took Shirou to his house. Shirou wanted to offer his help to these people but lacked the means or skills to do so, he wasn’t a carpenter or a stonemason or a healer. What they needed most right now was to take care of their injured and rebuild their homes. He could offer to help move things for them but felt it best to not get underfoot. Inside the hut, the chief began to tell Shirou about the world he now found himself in. First, he learnt of the Kingdom of Re-Estize, the Baharuth Empire and the Slane Theocracy. They were the immediate powers of the area, Carne village, the village Shirou had just saved, being on the border with all three but belonging to the Re-Estize Kingdom. Next, he learnt of the currency. Due to Carne being so close to the border it wasn't unrealistic for Shirou to not know what money they used in the Kingdom, he simply claimed to be a traveller from the Empire. Gold, silver and bronze coins were universal between each of the three and all the coins shared the same weight, making exchanging them easy, but each had a different mint. While nearly any coin was considered acceptable this close to the border, going further into any of the three countries meant the likelihood of anyone accepting the coin of a neighbouring kingdom was low. It was usually best to exchange neighbouring coin for the local currency. The chief went on to explain some more stuff about the Kingdom at large but, being a simple villager, that knowledge was fairly limited. He did have some knowledge of the nearest city though, E-Rantel, which he talked about at length.

“There's an adventurers guild there,” the chief said. “Their essential heroes-for-hire, but nowhere near as powerful.” The way the chief had said that, 'heroes', confused Shirou. While he had no doubt that Re-Estize had grand legends with powerful hero's at their centre, the surety with which the old man talked about them, the almost familiarity he seemed to have, was different from the reverence Shirou had expected when talking about such myths. In the end, it didn’t matter so he let it go.

Just as the chief was explaining the inner workings of the adventures guild, a man burst through the door. “Chief,” he cried in alarm. “More soldiers are coming.” The village chief stood up in alarm. Shirou stood as well but only to make his way to the door.

“I’ll handle this,” he told the chief.

“I couldn't possibly ask that of you,” the chief told him. “You've already done so much and we have little to repay you with.”

“But you didn't ask,” Shirou pointed out, quickly leaving before the man could argue. The chief was taken aback letting Shirou head out to meet the soldiers. As soon as he was outside he summoned his bow. With one Re-Action down, Shirou set his other two as a pair of random spells. They wouldn’t be needed so it didn’t matter which. He hopped up onto a roof of a nearby building to get a better look at the incoming foe.

Another Archer class ability of Shirou's was Hawk Eye. It allowed an Archer to magically magnify their gaze at will to better help them aim at targets far away. Normally, the max range would be two kilometres. With how many levels he had in dragonoid, Shirou's maximum distance was upped to four.

_ They’re different _ , Shirou noted. These troops had light, brown, leather armour and swords of inferior make. They were lead by a warrior in steel plates but the design was different. Whereas the first group of soldiers had standardised armour this warrior wore custom platemail. The style was different too, the knights wearing more rounded plate mail while this warrior wore stockie, square plates. Shirou hopped down to inform the chief. These soldiers might be men of the Re-Estize Kingdom, rather than the Baharuth Empire that the chief said the first soldiers belonged to, and Shirou didn’t want to risk killing them if they were. Apparently, there were border skirmishes between the two power every year called the Summer Wars. It went some way to explaining the chiefs recognition of a foreign countries soldiers and it also meant it wasn’t unreasonable to assume these troops were here to deal with the invaders, if these things really were quite common. Shirou didn’t like to think about the implications that came with the chief familial knowledge of what armour from the Baharuth Empire looked like. Shirou swiftly described the look of the riders to the old man who lit up in joy, apparently these  _ were  _ his nations soldiers and the warrior at their head was a man by the name of Gazef Stronoff, a celebrity of sorts for the lower classes and the king’s head bodyguard. Shirou and the chief went out to meet them.

The horses furious pace slowed as the soldier got closer to the village. Stronoff pulled his horse up towards the village chief and announced his presence to all who’d come to meet him. “Dear citizens,” he called out, his voice deep and loud but with a surprising calm. His confidence and general demeanour helped set the villager more at ease, on top of the effect his mere presence already had. “Have no fear,” he continued. “I am Gazef Stronoff, the head of His Majesty's royal guard. I have been sent by the king himself to rid you of the knights that have been attacking villages in this area. You may rest easy.”

The chief thanked Lord Stronoff for his aid before Stronoff asked if they had any idea where the knights might be. The chief ummed and ahed for a moment before awkwardly pointing behind him to a pile of corpses. The villagers had stacked them together to make it easier to strip them of their armour and valuables and letting them quickly bury the bodies, after first burying their own dead. “Over there,” he told Stronoff.

“Your doing?!” Stronoff asked Shirou in amazement. The bow in Shirou's hand and the punctures in the knight's armour didn’t make it hard to put things together. Shirou simply nodded. Stronoff took a second to gather his composure before asking, “You are a Hero, then?” Again, the casualness with which Stronoff said ‘Hero’ struck Shirou as odd but he ignored it in favour of answering the man's question.

“Yes, Lord Stronoff.” Stronoff, thankfully, didn't take offence to Shirou's short answer, though he did seem slightly uncomfortable when called by his title, a point in his favour in Shirou’s book.

“Then you have my thanks,” he said. “May I ask for your name?”

“Call me Ainz Ooal Gown,” Shirou said.

“Not your real name, I take it,” Stronoff remarked. Shirou didn't answer. Explaining why he now carried the name would take too long and would sound too much like a lie, the story being too fanciful even for a heroes legends. “I see,” Stronoff said upon not receiving a reply. “Thank you all the same, Sir Gown.”

Stronoff asked to see the bodies and their armour, hoping to identify what enemy they belonged to. He too confirmed they wore Baharuth armour. “Useless,” Shirou told him. “The armour and weapons aren't theirs. They picked them up recently, most likely after ambushing the real owners. They're probably bandits,” Shirou explained. When he Analysed the weapons they all changed hands around the same time, the original owners had probably been ambushed and their armour and weapons stripped from them. They weren’t exactly a skilled group and they attacked village after village, seemingly at random from what Shirou had gathered.

“Unlikely,” Stronoff said. “These raids were too organised to not be done by a military force. They could have be deserters except for the fact that they took no treasures, even the stupidest of robbers loot the places they sack. If what you say about the armour and weapons is true, that they were stolen from others, then I believe this to be a deliberate act of sabotage, one the person who ordered this attack had hoped to blame on another. Perhaps the Baharuth organised the whole thing to be able to maintain deniability, brushing this off as nothing more than a rogue group, or perhaps this was a ploy by the Slane Theocracy to sow greater discord between it’s two enemies.” Shirou wasn't too familiar with the three major powers to know if these were a tactic one of them might use so deferred to the Lords greater knowledge.

An outrider came blistering towards the group. “My Lord,” he cried out. “Enemies approaching.” Stronoff reacted quickly, an experienced commander, and ordered his men into the villages barn. The chief quickly gathered together his people and did the same. Shirou didn't move. After sorting out his men, Stronoff came back out to join him.

“Sir Gown, do you not wish to join us in the barn,” he asked. Stronoff had chosen the building to both hide his men to ambush the enemy upon their arrival inside the village and also for protection against arrows. It would help level the field for his rather small force.

“No need, I'll take care of this,” Shirou assured him. Stronoff looked surprised.

“But why, this isn't your fight. My men and I are here now, we can protect the villagers.”

“To save people,” Shirou told him; there was no more to it than that. Stronoff stared at Shirou for a while, studying him. While Shirou's face was hidden behind the same mask he'd been wearing since first using Requip after meeting the two girls, Stronoff seemed to find what he was looking for. He held out his hand to Shirou.

“Allow me to apologise. It seems I misjudged the type of Hero you are.” Shirou accepted his apology easily. He wasn’t sure what the Lord had pegged him as but he didn’t really care either way. Still, it was nice for him to recognise the type of person Shirou was. A quick look out of the village let Shirou see the enemy soldiers gathering. They set themselves up evenly around the village in a circle and slowly moved in towards the village as one. They wore different armour to the first group and moved with professional training. It seems Stronoff was right after all.

“They're here,” Shirou announced.

“You can see that far? Impressive.” Shirou noticed a symbol upon the soldiers armour and described it to Stronoff.

“White metal with a blue border. There's a candelabra on the centre of the chest holding six candles, surrounded by a wreath, all in the same blue as the border.”

“The Slane Theocracy. One candle for each of their six gods. I'd never have thought them so bold as to do all of this just for me,” Stronoff muttered to himself. Shirou detected no arrogance from the man, he was merely stating a fact. Shirou would admit that taking out a guard of a king was beneficial to a kingdoms enemies but only if followed up by an assassination attempt, perhaps Stronoff was best riding out to warn his liege. When Shirou mentioned this to Stronoff the larger man just laughed, claiming there were those far more capable than himself protecting the king. So it was his fame, then. The death of a man as renown as Stronoff, to have been heard and well regarded even on the edges of the Kingdom, would mean a serious blow to the Kingdom. The fact he represented the common folk, being one of them, would only cause his death to hit harder home and demoralise the people.

When Shirou looked back at the Theocracy soldiers he noticed something else, they'd each summoned a creature to their aid. Archangel Flames, low-level mobs from YGGDRASIL. _ What are they doing here,  _ Shirou wondered, being summoned, no less. A question for another time but one he would most certainly find the answer too.

“You should rejoin your men. This won't take long.” Stronoff spared Shirou another glance before nodding and heading off. Perhaps if it was any other man, Stronoff might have argued. As it was, Shirous calm confidence and sure tone had the Lord backing down quickly. Shirou stepped forward to battle. It was over before it even begun.

The enemy commander was ridiculously easy to pick out. Not only was he wearing different armour and had a stronger angelic summon, but he also didn't even wear a helmet. A single arrow shot across the plains was all it took. The magic arrow moved slow enough for the commander to see it coming but fast enough that he had no time to react. The arrow vapourised half his head. With the sudden death of their commander, the Theocracy forces were thrown into disarray. Shirou used their panic to jump on top of the bell tower to get a better look at all of their forces. They were numerous and surrounded the entire village but Shirou didn’t worry. He needed no more than one arrow for each of them. The summons, now each without a master, started to congregate around the strongest of them, the commanders summon. When Shirou sent an arrow its way one of the weaker angels dived in front to take the blow. This happened two more times before Shirou used more mana for an even more powerful shot. When an angel took the shot for their commander the arrow bulldozed through them and their commander both. After that, he just had to mop up the rest.

When Shirou returned to the ground Stronoff, his men and the villagers started to emerge from the barn. They looked at him with a deep respect and awe for his feat but without the surprise Shirou had been expecting, like they'd heard of similar things before. No, more than that, they looked like they'd  _ seen  _ them before.

Stronoff and his men soon remounted their horses to return home, their reason for being here now gone. Before he left Shirou asked Stronoff the question that had slowly been forming in his mind. “Do you have heroes as powerful as me?”

“Do you mean the Eight Defenders,” Stronoff asked. “Oh most definitely. While your abilities are impressive, the Defenders are leagues above something as simple as all this. We might have others who are as strong as you dotted about here and there, most likely adamantine adventurers.” The news shocked Shirou into silence. All the information he and the denizens of Nazarick had gather up to this point hadn't even hinted at anyone capable of matching their level or power. While it was true Shirou wasn't even trying, and that Nazarick hadn’t looked nearly far enough to be certain of the strength of all this worlds beings, to hear there were others who could do things of a similar level to all of this was unexpected. While Shirou had been hoping that other players had come over with him he doubted these Defenders were a group of them. For one, these Defenders seemed to be too well established already within the Kingdom, having been around long enough to be known to a small village at the edge of their territory. Unless whatever magic transported Shirou and Nazarick to this new world also plopped other players into the world in different time periods then there was no way for them to be as well known as they are. Still, Shirou needed to find out more before he could be sure.

With Stronoff and his men gone and the village now safe, Shirou said farewell to the village chief, stopping briefly to check up on the two girls he'd saved before finally heading home, making sure they had actually made it back safely. He wasn't one hundred percent sure where Nazarick was in relation to the village so, once he was far enough away, Shirou swapped out his light black mask with slanted, silver triangles for eyes for the Crown of Ainz Ooal Gown. The mask was a part of Shirous regular armour, which consisted of similarly coloured black armour with silver highlights. Being an Archer meant his armour was light, mostly consisting of a metal chestplate, bracers and greaves. He wore black leather trousers and a black pair of boots. They all, including the mask, had various buffs and magical effects that improved his defence stat or improved his Archer abilities. Shirou switched his mask for the crown as it was the only way he could make a Gate, he himself not having access to the spell without the item.

Upon returning to Nazarick, Shirou was immediately set upon by concerned floor guardians. They were all here, again minus Gargantua, and from just a look Shirou could see how devastated and anxious they were.  _ I did that _ , he thought bitterly. It was him and his actions that hurt them, and he hated himself for it. Even Demiurge looked shaken by Shirou's sudden absence. He'd only been gone for a few hours and, while they could see what he was doing with the Mirror of Remote Viewing, he had left rather abruptly without even saying a word.

“I thought you'd abandoned us too,” Albedo told him, tears in her eyes and her voice breaking. It was the first time it really struck Shirou how reckless his actions had been. He'd just done what he felt he had to do, it was no different than his time with Saber in the Holy Grail War.  _ Was I as selfish then as I was today? _ He didn't know. He’d fought in the Grail War because he just couldn’t allow another to fight in his place, to be hurt because of him. Shirou vowed not to make his precious subjects worry like that again. He pulled Albedo into his chest and she started to sob.

“Never,” he whispered to her. “Never,” he repeated louder, a promise to them all. “I swear I will never abandon any of you, or Nazarick. I am your leader, your…” The crown on Shirou's head wore down on him, making its presence known.  “...I am your king,” he said softly. “And as your king, it is my duty to command you and see you all prosper. How can I do that if I’m not there to lead you?” He asked. Albedo gave a short, sobbing laugh before continuing to cry.  _ I won't ever make you cry again _ , he promised her to himself.

Shirou had jumped to the defence of those villager in their time of need without a second thought, that was just what it meant to be a Hero of Justice. He'd jumped to there defence without even thinking of those he was leaving behind. Perhaps it was due to the recent changes he was experiencing, but Shirou found he was now less eager to come to the defence of others. He wanted to achieve his dream, peace for all the world, to save everyone, but it was now no longer his most important concern. Nazarick was. It was all he had left of his friends and it needed protecting most. He'd set the world on fire if it meant keeping the Tomb and all who lived within it safe. 

_ No matter what, Nazarick comes first. _

 

Gaseff knelt before the king. King Ramposa wasn't someone people would call intimidating or imposing. He was a rather short man with grey hair, his beard was well kept but his hair flowed down in drabs. As king, Ramposa were a crown of dull gold with various red jewels inlaid within it. His attire was a mix of maroon, beige and brown. The man himself was about as dull as his clothing, not a standout monarch who his people would glorify to their end of days but not a tyrant either. ‘Gentle’ was the word people would use to describe him. King Ramposa could only be described as a good king, never great.

“Has the situation been resolved,” He asked Stronoff.

“It has, your majesty,” Stronoff replied. “Though not by my hand.” This intrigued the king.

“Help, from who?”

“I don't know his true name but he called himself Ainz Ooal Gown. He is a man of considerable skill, at least at the level of an Adamantine adventurer. Though I was not able to see his full strength, he dispatched the invaders with ease,” Stronoff explained.

“Slane soldier, yes?” Stronoff nodded. The initial report Stronoff had filed on the incident was sorely lacking but was enough to cover the basics. The king had called his guard to report before him because he wanted to know more about the incident. So, Stronoff told the king all that he knew. He told him about the various villages that had been burnt to their very foundations, the citizens of said villages that had been slaughtered to a man and left behind to rot and of the mysterious warrior of black and silver, with twin blades of peerless craft and a bow of blackened wood that shot silver tinged bolts of magic.

“Twin blades?!” A voice called out in alarm. Stronoff turned to address the man who spoke.

“Yes, Defender Caster,” Stronoff answered. The king also turned to regard the man as well. Caster might be informal with his king, sometimes rowdy and always one for a bawdy joke, but he never interrupted important proceedings like these without good reason.

“You know of this man, then?” The king asked Caster. Caster sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, finally realising he'd spoken out of turn.

“I think so, yeah. A black bow and twin falchion of silver and black. Did he have dark skin and white hair?” Caster asked Stronoff.

“Yes,” the man answered in surprise.

“Then it must be him,” Caster muttered to himself. The king raised an eyebrow at him. “EMIYA,” Caster answered. “His name is EMIYA. And I can tell you all this, he isn't Adamantine class, he's on the same level as a Defender.” The news was of concern to all who heard it. While the Slane Theocracy and the Baharuth Empire both possessed warriors of skill on par with the Kingdoms Defenders they were all known of. For a person of equal skill to have risen without the king or any of his subjects knowing was of great concern. 

“I should know,” Caster continues. “I've killed him once before.”

 

Six robed men cloistered together, discussing matters of church and state. The men all wore gaudy robes meant to signify their positions as the leaders of the Theocracy. The robes were a mix of blue and white, with white being the most prominent of the two. The cardinal hats on their heads were highlighted with a brilliant gold and had long, twin piece of blue fabric that trailed from the back. The fabric stopped at the men's lower back. Their talks were interrupted by another man in white and blue robes, though nowhere near as unsightly, but he was not one of the Supreme Council like they were, nor was he the Pontifex Maximus.

“Why have you disturbed us, Wizard,” one of the Cardinals asked, annoyed. The Wizard gave a breezy laugh.

“Don't you want to know what happened to the Clearwater and Sunlight Scriptures you sent out,” the Wizard fired back airily. The Cardinals ground their teeth. They did not like the Wizard, his carefree and laid back attitude enraged them. While not apart of the group himself, if it were not for his connection to the Six Holy Knights the Cardinals would never have put up with someone like him.

“I take it they are all dead, then,” one of the other Cardinals deduced.

The Wizard pouted and hummed in frustration. “How'd you guess?” He sounded no better than a child who'd just been told he couldn’t have dessert if he didn’t eat all of his dinner.

“You would not have come and told us yourself what had happened if there had been anyone left alive to report to us themselves,” the Cardinal explained.

The Wizards mood seemed to flip completely. “You got me,” he laughed, becoming jovial once again. “Yeah, wiped out completely. Some guy in black armour, called himself Ainz Ooal Gown, or something.” The Cardinals all tensed as one.

The same Cardinal who'd called out the Wizards presence, the Cardinal of Earth, spoke again. “Tell the Holy Knights to ready themselves. Tell the Holy Maiden too, she may yet be needed.”

For the first time since entering the chamber, the childish air around the Wizard vanished. “Is he that bad,” the Wizard asked, his voice completely serious.

“Just do as we say,” the Cardinal snapped. At any other time, the Wizard might have refused, however, seeing the fear and distress in the men's faces, he decided to obey. At least this once. While The Wizard thought of the Cardinals as worrisome old men, to see them so clearly agitated was not something to take lightly. The fact they recognised the name was another thing to note.

“I’ll inform them at once,” he said before leaving.

Alone again, the Cardinals worriedly turned to each other. “Could it be?!” One asked in terror. “It must be,” another answered, equally as scared.

“Be calm,” the Cardinal of Earth ordered. “For now, all we can be sure of is this being shares that entity's name. If they are one and the same then we must endeavour to defeat it, before it turns its attention to us. We cannot let it win again.” On this, they all agreed. 

The devastation that came to pass at the victory of the being known as Ainz Ooal Gown could not be allowed to come to happen again.


End file.
